web log analysis Confessions of a Promiscuous Top: Pop!

Wednesday, September 5, 2012


Today I hopped in my car; drove a several slow, smoggy, stop-and-go miles on an elevated highway across Brooklyn at rush hour; searched for a parking space; trudged up the stairs of an old apartment building to an efficiency apartment containing a glamorously handsome but thin and hairless Latino bottom who held me close and kissed like a dream and sucked my dick with the most beautiful velvety pressure; took off my clothes and took off his clothes and got in bed and made out intensely with our hands all over each other and I laid on top of him and held his hairy thighs and ground my dick into his (which was long but very bent) and sucked his nips and within ten minutes, without any warning at all, like some kind of tenth-grader, began ejaculating copiously all over him. "What the fuck??" I exclaimed at my moronic penis as I fisted it and helplessly watched the thick white ropes of goo plaster the very, very annoyed bottom. "What the FUCK??" I began to laugh riotously, shaking my head, and said "This has not happened to me in a LONG time." Annoyed Latino Bottom jumped up and ran into the bathroom, closed the door, and spent far too long in there to be just washing up cum. I slowly got dressed again, wondering if I should offer to help get him off. Then I decided not to-- he wanted to get fucked and I wasn't gonna be able to do that any time soon, so I finished putting on my clothes. He was still in the bathroom. Should I just leave without saying goodbye? I didn't know! I just stood there looking at the door. He finally came out, and I apologized, which he dismissed with fake good will. I said "I guess you were just too hot!" and he broke into a wry smile for a second and said "Oh, yeah!" and began showing me out the door. On the way back to my car I felt completely humiliated, but also unusually light and jaunty, because for whatever reason that was a pretty awesome orgasm and I came a LOT-- most bottoms I get with would be all google eyed and drooling at it. And *I'm* the one who spent 35 minutes in downtown Brooklyn rush-hour traffic for 10 minutes of nookie that puts my tool out of commission for the time being. He can just dial up another top, just like that! He can get stuffed with dicks all night long! Ah well, the perils of topping-- the burden, the responsibility, the red-faced shame. But hey, I got off!


  1. Thanks as always for stopping in. You know I love hearing from you.

    This post reminded me of American Pie. :) at the risk of being uncouth, it cheered me up -- granted, at your expense.

    Unrelated: what about cuddles? Do you ever just... cuddle?

    1. I'm happy to cheer my readers up with my misadventures. I don't take all this stuff that seriously, and sometimes a botched hookup is more fun to relate than a good one.

      I do like to cuddle a bit and talk after really good sex with a nice guy. And my fucking, while athletic, is pretty affectionate, I think. It's a fine line, however. My partner and I are sexless but extremely physical and extremely cuddly, and that's very important to me. I think the feelings that "normal" people retain for fucking-- discomfort with the idea of being that intimate with a stranger, feeling disloyal to a partner by doing something to a stranger the partner likes, etc-- are for me reserved for certain kinds of affection. So I wouldn't hook up with someone who clearly just needs cuddling, because it wouldn't be right for my relationship or for the cuddle-hungry bottom.

      My partner and I are ridiculous, though, staying in bed for so long we've missed meals and emerge starving and dizzy and still reluctant to get up. It's honestly better than sex, to me.

    2. You intuited why I asked.